


Malneirophrenia- chapter 7

by bobasheebaby



Series: Monsters [7]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Child Neglect, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobasheebaby/pseuds/bobasheebaby
Summary: Emma meets her sponsors and gets a crash course in everything she will need for the social season.
Relationships: Liam & Main Character (The Royal Romance), Liam/Olivia Nevrakis, Olivia Nevrakis/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Series: Monsters [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621735
Kudos: 5





	Malneirophrenia- chapter 7

_Malneirophrenia: the feeling of unease or unhappiness that comes from waking up from a nightmare._

Emma gazed out the window as they traveled the winding roads of the lush Cordonian countryside. Everything here was so different. She grew up in the dense, harsh city; here, everything was lush and open. It was as if dilapidated buildings didn’t exist in Cordonia; instead, quaint country villages spotted with cute, vintage homes transitioned into impressive manors surrounded by sprawling vineyards. _Will I ever fit in here?_

Her clover green eyes went wide as their car stopped in front of an impressive stone and wood mansion, with lush lawns and gardens that appeared to stretch on forever. “Is this the palace?”

Liam chuckled. “We’re in Duchy Ramsford at the Beaumont estate. You will be staying here until the start of the social season.”

Emma’s heart hammered in her chest. _Did they already change their minds about me?_

“Li, you’re scaring the poor girl.” Olivia lightly touched Emma’s arm. “Emma, Liam needs to go back to the palace and it wouldn’t be proper for a suitor to arrive so early. The Beaumont brothers have graciously offered to sponsor you.”

“Wait, suitor? You told me you brought me to Cordonia to be Liam’s queen.” Her heart pounded in her chest. _See, you’re too trusting. They lied to you._

“You are,” Olivia said softly.

“Why do I need a sponsor then?” Emma asked as she looked between Liam and Olivia.

Liam glanced at Olivia before clearing his throat. “Emma, I understand this doesn’t make sense, but it is customary for noblemen and women to go through a social season to find spouses. I will choose you. We want to build a life with you.”

Emma’s eyes widened in surprise, she thought all of this was already set. She didn’t realize she had to pretend to compete for him while other members of royalty silently judged her every move. He said he’d choose her, but what if she fumbled and everyone hated her? Could she handle another failure to her name?

Emma stepped out of the vehicle. She felt slightly more comfortable but was still nervous. She didn’t know these people and she was expected to live with them. Could she trust two men whom she had never met?

“Olivia will be staying to make sure they take good care of you and help you settle,” Liam said stepping beside her. “Duke Bertrand will also help prepare you for your role by teaching you what you need to know about life at court.”

Emma smiled slightly at the thought that she wouldn’t be alone. Olivia was tough but she was kind. Emma was relieved that she was staying with her. She smiled at Liam, nodding her understanding as shouts filled the air around her.

“You’re here! Bertrand, they’re here!” A tall, thin man with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair shouted his greetings as he bounded down the front stairs to greet them.

“I can see that, Maxwell.” A shorter, more serious man Emma took to be Bertrand said walking down the stairs at a much slower pace. “You may have grown up with His Majesty, but can you please keep up _some_ courtly protocol?”

Maxwell deflated. “Sorry, Bertrand.”

“Yes, well do better,” Bertrand said as he smoothed down the front of his brown sweater vest.

Emma appraised the pair. Maxwell was loud, effervescent, and exuded energy. Bertrand was more stern with a face that seemed permanently etched with a scowl. She wondered how the two could actually be brothers. She straightened as she felt Bertrand’s eyes fall on her, his lips pulled into a thin line as he scrutinized her.

“Your Majesty,” Bertrand dipped into a smooth bow before turning to Olivia. “Duchess Olivia, I do hope your journey was alright. I would like to once again extend you both my sympathies about the king father, such a tragic loss.”

Liam nodded, his stoic façade in place. “Thank you, Duke Bertrand. I’d like to thank you for offering to sponsor Lady Emma.” His onyx stare reminding him of their deal; help Emma, parade her as their own, keep Liam's secret, and receive everything needed to regain his house’s status.

“It's an honor, sir.” He turned to Emma giving her a stiff nod. “You must be Lady Emma. I am Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford.”

Emma racked her brain trying to remember the crash course in etiquette that she received on the plane from New York. “Yes, your Grace. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance,” she replied as she dipped into an awkward curtsy.

“Hmm.” Bertrand momentarily questioned why the new reigning monarch wanted him to sponsor _this_ woman and claim her as his own. He nearly backed out of their deal, but the promise of wealth and keeping their status untarnished won out. The king had offered a _lot_ of money, money House Beaumont desperately needed to return to its former glory. It also helped that Liam said this woman _would_ be his queen. “It’s going to take a lot of hard work but I will have her presentable in time for the start of the social season.”

\--

“And this is your room,” Maxwell said with a flourish of his arms.

“Thank you,” Emma said giving him a shy smile. He seemed nice but she found his personality a bit overwhelming.

She stepped into the spacious room, her eyes going wide as she took in the space _. I could fit my first studio apartment in here twice._ She set her Daemarrel bag on the bed before the sudden realization that she had moved across an ocean with nothing but a new purse and a few items to her name hitting her full force.

She swallowed, thinking of all she needed to replace. _Did I grab my wallet? Can I even access my account or will the police use it to find me?_ She gave a soft sigh. This would be any girl’s dream come true, but she was starting to wonder if this was just her being beholden to another man.

Her thoughts drifted to the crimson goddess as she sank into the soft bedding. Thoughts of her stirred butterflies in her stomach and she wondered if Olivia had similar feelings. She rolled to her side and sighed. Her new life would be so much easier if she didn’t have to vie for the hand of a king. She wished the three of them could simply start building their new life together. Liam and Olivia were sweet and kind -- all three of them had survived personal hells. The thought of belonging, of being safe with them, made her happy.

But she knew this was how it had to be for now. Tomorrow, she remembered Bertrand telling her, she would start to learn the skills needed to be queen.

\---

Emma sat at a grand oak table in a hard, uncomfortable chair. She stared wide-eyed at the place setting before her, her hands neatly folded in her lap as Bertrand had instructed. Her eyes scanned over the multiple forks as she tried desperately to remember the basic etiquette course she’d had in her home economics class. She gave a soft, hesitant smile as she lifted her left hand, fingers delicately wrapping around the fork closest to the plate. Her head snapped to the side as Olivia gently cleared her throat before picking up the correct fork.

Emma flashed Olivia a grateful smile as she tried to ignore the way her heart raced in her presence. She lifted the correct fork and tucked into her salad. She never realized there were so many different utensils that each served a distinct purpose during the meal. She wondered if Bertrand got a perverse joy watching her fail time and time again. Each new rule seemed to be spoken in a language only the elite could ever understand. _Will I ever get this down? Will I ever make them believe I belong?_

_Always taste your food before seasoning it_ was one rule she found easy to follow. Growing up, her mother would smack her hand, calling her an ungrateful brat if she even thought of modifying the dish she had been served. It led her to accept what she was served.

Emma casually glanced at Olivia, she watched as Olivia pushed the salad around her plate. _Is there something wrong with the food?_ She cautiously pierced a few delicate leaves with her fork, bringing the lightly dressed greens to her mouth. _It seems fine to me._

She tried to conceal her surprise when her salad plate was whisked away and replaced by a new dish. Her eyes swept over her main course: a small, whole bird served with rice pilaf and asparagus. She looked at her utensils. _At least there is only one fork left._

“Lady Emma, could you please pass me the salt?” Bertrand requested, his watchful gaze burning into her.

“Of course,” she replied with a tentative smile. His previous words pinged in her head; _pass the salt and pepper together._ That rule felt dumb. She couldn’t understand why you would pass both if they had only requested one, but maybe there was something she would eventually understand about always keeping them together.

She carefully picked up the salt _and_ pepper, _what did he say about passing items?_ She ran through the rules in her head: _set passed items directly on the table instead of passing hand to hand._ She set the shakers to the right of Bertrand’s plate before flashing him a soft, proud smile.

“Thank you, Lady Emma,” Bertrand said.

His words felt cold and hard, like the false praise you’d give to a scolded child or a misbehaving dog. She nodded her head in his direction, worry her voice may crack if she were to speak aloud.

Her palms felt sweaty as she watched the others carefully cut off bite-sized portions of the bird. _How do I even begin to cut it? It’s basically whole, all it’s missing is it’s head, feet, and feathers._

She surreptitiously slid her hands to her lap, thankful to have the linen napkin to dry her sweaty palms. _One rule is a win; the napkin rests on your lap until the end of the meal._ Emma flashed an uneasy smile as she lifted her knife and fork, carefully cutting a small piece of breast meat from the bone. _Here’s to new things,_ she thought as she brought the meat to her lips.

Her eyes fell on Olivia’s plate as she chewed. She noticed that, despite the appearance Olivia gave, she’d hardly touched her meal. _Why isn’t she eating?_ She suddenly realized that she had hardly seen Olivia eat since they met.

\- -

_Olivia tilted her head down, her eyes trained on her plate as she pushed the food around. Her stomach gave a soft rumble, but she refused to take a bite; she knew the food on her plate wouldn’t be nearly as edible as it appeared. Regina simply kept up the appearance of keeping her well cared for._

_She speared a lima bean with her fork, summoning the courage to eat it no matter how vile it might taste. Regina enjoyed using food to punish her and would tamper with her meals to make them inedible: vinegar in her soup, extra salt on her vegetables, overcooked and burnt meat. She did her best to stomach it since mealtime was the only time she was able to eat. She’d once tried to sneak into the kitchen late at night, only to find that Regina kept the food locked tight._

_If you wanted to eat you ate with the ‘family’ or you could starve._ Maybe starving isn’t so bad.

\- -

Unknown to Emma, Olivia had requested that Bertrand schedule time for her to teach Emma about more feminine matters. Bertrand didn’t question her; he asked how long she needed and to let him know if he could assist in any way with the lesson.

Olivia spent the afternoon in Emma’s room reviewing the items her stylist had sent over for Emma. She smiled as she ran her fingers down the sleeve of a kelly green cashmere sweater. There was a reason she kept Sasha around; she was a wizard with building wardrobes. She had even included a few ties and items for Liam that coordinated in a subtle way with several of Emma’s outfits. She nodded before sitting on the bed, lifting her legs and admiring the new deep red leather booties Sasha found for her. She loved that, even when shopping for Emma, she still kept her in mind. It felt nice to have someone care.

At 14.00, she walked downstairs and down the center hall of the Beaumont Estate. Their manor was one of the homes she enjoyed visiting. The brothers had kept with their family traditions but it had a light, airy feel to it that other estates and keeps didn’t have.

She arrived at the den and softly knocked before cracking the door open. She peeked inside and saw Emma sitting across from Bertrand. He had been teaching her Cordonian history and Olivia sensed the lesson went well based on the smile on her face.

“Lady Olivia,” Bertrand greeted as he stood. “Please, come in. We were just finishing up.”

Emma stood and turned, meeting Olivia’s eyes as she dipped into a passable curtsy.

“Emma, you don’t need to curtsy,” Olivia noted before looking to Bertrand.

“I thought it prudent that she practices each time she meets someone. Practice makes perfect.”

Emma kept her face passive as she stood. “Duke Bertrand was helping me with my form, but perhaps you can help me refine my skills.” She smiled as she looked at Bertrand. “As lovely as his curtsies are, I think they lack a woman’s touch.”

Bertrand nodded. “I’m sure Lady Olivia can help. She had one of the most rigorous teachers -- you’d be lucky to learn from her. She has perfected the art of court.”

Olivia nodded towards Bertrand. “Thank you. I like to think I have some talents. However, I have a lesson prepared for Emma. We will be down for dinner.”

The two women departed the lounge and headed towards Emma’s suite.

“How were your lessons?” Olivia asked.

Emma sighed. “They went well -- the duke is very nice if you get past the grumpy part of his personality. We talked about values and traditions … he also gave me curtsying lessons.”

Olivia chuckled. “I got the impression.”

“Sadly, he does curtsy better than me,” Emma said before glancing at Olivia. Their eyes met and they both laughed.

“You’ll get there. Keep in mind that you are learning the things we have had beaten into us since we were born.” Olivia took her hand as they reached Emma’s room. “I think you will enjoy your next lesson.”

“I’m trying to imagine what sort of lesson would be in my bedroom.”

“Dressing and appearance. Come with me,” Olivia said as she opened the door and gestured for Emma to enter.

Emma paused when she caught sight of the two wardrobe racks filled with clothes. Several pairs of shoes were neatly arranged along the floor and display trays and stands held a variety of jewelry and other accessories.

“Olivia, what … what is all this?” Emma glanced at Olivia before swallowing. She couldn’t even think about how much this cost; the rack of silken, glittery ball gowns must have cost a fortune.

Olivia walked to the rack that held the more casual items. She ran her hand over the soft sweaters before turning to look at Emma. “I told you my stylist was going to pull items for you.”

Emma shook her head. “But I can’t … I can’t afford this. It’s too much.”

Oliva walked up to Emma and took her hands. Emma looked down, refusing to look at Olivia as tears started to prick at her eyes. “Emma, look at me.”

Emma lifted her face, blinking her eyes in a vain attempt to hide her tears. “I’m sorry.”

“We are family now. This -- everything -- it is simply how your life is now. It isn’t a gift, you do not owe us anything. What you need, we will provide. What we need, you will provide. You, me, Liam … it’s going to be the three of us and that means we support each other. Right now, you need clothes. Here,” Olivia shifted so she stood next to Emma and gently turned her to face the clothes, “are your clothes. We will shop more before we leave for the capital, and you don’t have to keep anything you don’t like. Now let’s have fun trying on outfits and having girl time.”

Emma let out a little laugh. “I know, I’m sorry, I just --”

“Emma, don’t apologize for how you feel. You can be apprehensive, or unsure … but I’m here for you and anything you need or want …” Olivia blushed a bit before taking Emma’s hand and stepping up to one of the clothing racks. “I am able to offer insight and lessons that Bertrand is unable to … help you in ways the men can’t.”

Emma squeezed Olivia’s hand as her fingers reached up and brushed the sleeve of the kelly green cashmere sweater. “You’re right, Olivia, and you have already been more of a friend than I would have ever expected.” She lifted the sweater off the rack and held it to her chest, her eyes looking down at the soft fabric floating over her blouse.

“It’s a beautiful color on you,” Olivia noted. “I sent Sasha some photos so she could match your coloring. I think she did a wonderful job.”

Emma bit her lip as she turned to face Olivia. “Everything here is so beautiful. Tell me what I need to do to be a part of your world.”


End file.
